Be Ye Men of Valor
by EnigmaFire17
Summary: He was running frantically through the pitch black streets, racing to get to his flat. Arthur Kirkland, a young man of only twenty years old, had been caught outside during an air-raid. A songfic based on Within Temptation's "Solemn Hour." A snapshot of the horrors of the London Bombing during WWII.


A/N: A songfic oneshot. Based on Within Temptation's "Solemn Hour. " Please Review? I know this story is inaccurate because I blended various events of WWII in this, so it's not very accurate, but I think it makes a good story. Disclaimer: I don't own the song, speech, or Hetalia.

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He was running frantically through the pitch black streets, racing to get to his flat. It was the dead of night all that could be heard were his panting breaths and the thunderous pounding of his heart. Arthur Kirkland, a young man of only twenty years old, had been caught outside during an air-raid. Fear flooded his heart as the tell-tale high pitched whistle of a bomb falling from the skies reached his ears. He ducked into the nearest alley way, mere blocks from his home. All was silent for a moment, and he took the opportunity to sprint the final leg of his journey. He threw his front door open and as soon as he slammed it shut, another explosion could be heard in the distance, they were getting closer. Arthur slumped against the door, puffing hard, desperate for the oxygen his lungs craved, his heart still throbbing painfully in his chest.

The Briton stood, having finally calmed down. He turned to his radio set and flipped it on, the crackle and hum of it coming to life a comfort to him. _"I speak to you for the first time as Prime Minister in a solemn hour for the life of our country, of our empire, of our allies, and, above all, of the cause of Freedom."_ Came the voice over the radio waves, static intermittent. It was the voice of Winston Churchill, a man that Arthur looked up to. His grave speech continued, informing the people of London the current status of the war. _"A tremendous battle is raging in France and Flanders. The Germans, by a remarkable combination of air bombing and heavily armored tanks, have broken through the French defenses north of the Maginot Line, and strong columns of their armored vehicles are ravaging the open country, which for the first day or two was without defenders." _

Arthur shuddered, with every passing day, with every bomb dropped on his homeland, did his fear and hatred of the Germans grow. Now, Arthur wasn't a praying man, not after his falling out with the Catholic Church, but one phrase stuck in his mind, ringing like the bells of Big Ben. _Sanctus Espiritus_, Holy Spirit. The words constantly chimed in his brain and he clung to them, they were his source of strength. As the sound of explosions got ever closer, as the insanity of the situation grew, Arthur prayed that the people of London would be saved from their Solemn Hour. _Sanctus Espiritus._

A final crackle came over the radio, _"Arm yourselves, and be ye men of valor, and be in readiness for the conflict; for it is better for us to perish in battle than to look upon the outrage of our nation and our altar. As the Will of God is in Heaven, even so let it be." _Those were the final words spoken by the great Churchill that night. Arthur's heart, still enshrouded in fear, felt a surge of pride for his country; he knew, that no matter what should happen this night, he would not be going down without a fight. Even as the explosions surrounded him, Arthur found that he was no longer afraid, as the plaster of the building crumbled to dust beneath the fiery blast, he knew that he would live on, he had better things to do for his beloved country than to die.

Arthur Kirkland proved that any soul could break through chains of never ending agony. He served and fought for the Royal Air Force for the duration of the war, bringing down untold numbers of German soldiers and their mechanized power that had been crippling to Great Britain's forces. He was a renowned hero, beloved by all.

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Three days later, a rescue squad was clearing away the debris from the most recent air-raid. They found a young man buried among the rubble, curled up, as if sleeping, a gentle smile on his face.

A/N: Sad ending is sad! I blame CrookedMouse for inspiring this with her dark songfics. The speech is Winston Churchill's first speech as Prime Minister and lends its name to the title of this fanfic. I hope you enjoyed this sad piece of work anyways.

-EnigmaFire17


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